The Impending Doom of Middle Earth
by Min Daae
Summary: My first attempt at a Mary Sue parody. A Mary Sue and a Gary Stu infiltrate Middle Earth. Chaos ensues, where boys and girls alike fall on their faces for love and Middle Earth begins to disintegrate into a mess of flowers, bad poetry, and DOOM. R&R!
1. Prologue

_A/N: This is my first attempt at a Mary Sue parody. Please be nice. And now, the prologue._

In the Fourth Age of Middle Earth, the predominant peace of that world was suddenly and rudely broken when the human race suddenly encountered a deadly threat to its very existence. And part of the reason that this threat nearly caused the downfall of all things good was because of its nature, camouflaged in guises that bewildered the senses of men and women.

And for a long time, the Middle Earth that had defeated Sauron seemed doomed to fall to a doom much more ignoble, an enemy much more dreadful. But nobody was aware of this doom the day it came in the guise of two innocent young people…a boy and a girl, each unaware of the other, but secretly working toward the same purpose…


	2. In Which the Sues Enter

_A/N: So, my first chapter. I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor Mary Sues. Heck, I don't own very much. But it's my birthday today, so maybe I can pretend. Heh? Current music: Take Me or Leave Me! (from RENT). Never mind the run on sentences, please. They were intentional._

Years later, after it was all over, Aragorn would think back and grimace at his own stupidity. Maybe if he hadn't opened the door that fateful, stormy night, none of what followed would have happened.

It was raining outside, and he and Arwen were nibbling at some dessert in front of the fireplace. Legolas was upstairs with Gimli, doing…something. Aragorn wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what. He (that is, Aragorn) was a bit bored when he thought he heard a tentative knock on the door. It was gentle yet forceful yet tender yet musical. It was astonishing. Immediately he leapt out of his chair and bounded to the door, drawn by the mysteriously enchanting quality of the knock. He hadn't known that knocks could be beautiful, but this one was. Somehow.

He opened the door and found himself looking into the eyes of the most lovely woman he had ever seen. Her eyes were green with slivers of blue and reminded him of a Christmas Tree on a clear day in New York in July when there is no wind and nightingales are singing Peruvian duets in every tree while an invisible orchestra plays Beethoven's Fifth Symphony in the background on grass where children have just played, but filled with tears like rain in Seattle in September when the apple trees are ripe and children are getting hit in the face with pinecones during a highblown windstorm. And that was just her eyes!

Her hair was pure golden with streaks of bright red like rubies and black like crows and wavy and trailing behind her five feet, but somehow still purely golden and red and black. The gold was like corn in fields, and the black was like the crows eating the corn and getting shot down by a farmer and eaten by foxes and bears and vicious creatures and…

Never mind.

She was tall and slender, looking almost starved but with full lips and a large chest that heaved dramatically as she cried and a perfect tan. She was wearing what must have been a dress once, but now was so tattered that it was little more than a few mink skins sewed together. At least, that was what it looked like.

Aragorn found himself staring at her, his mouth hanging open. She was more beautiful than…than…there were no words elegant enough to describe her breathtaking beauty! She was perfect! She was…

"Hello," said the girl suddenly, in a quavering voice that sounded on the verge of tears. Aragorn felt a sudden urge to pound whomever had made her cry into the ground. Violently. "I am Bambi Amber-Destiny Papillion. I'm lost, and I ran away from my home because my father was abusive." Her was heavenly – musical and soft and lilting and perfect and clear and resonant. "But no one would take me in because I have a horrible scar on my upper thigh. Do you want to see?" she started to pull her dress up, and Argorn didn't have enough sense left to try and stop her, but then Arwen's voice called from the hallway.

"Estel? What are you doing?"

With a small hiss, the girl dropped her dress and Aragorn turned around. Arwen peered around him and her eyes fell on a rather ordinary looking young woman in a tattered cloth that was hardly decent. She glanced at Aragorn's glazed eyes and her frown deepened. "Who are you?" she asked sharply.

"Bambi Amber-Destiny Papillion," said the girl, and her voice was rather screechy.

Arwen snorted. "What kind of name is that?"

Aragorn turned around in trice, his eyes wild. "HOW DARE YOU TALK TO OUR GUEST THAT WAY! SHOW SOME MANNERS!" Then he turned back to the girl and utterly ignored Arwen's gaping mouth. Aragorn never talked to her that way! Never!

"Come in, Bambi," he said in a rather…floaty…voice. It sounded lovestruck. You can come up to my room and get changed." Arwen stepped forward.

"I don't think that's a good idea," she said, grabbing the girl's arm – perhaps rather harder than necessary. "She can come with me. I'm sure I can find something that will fit her –" but she might as well have been part of the wall. Aragorn tugged the girl loose and began walking away, already babbling about bed and clothes and maybe a bath. Arwen gaped after him. What had gotten into her husband? She didn't like this girl at all.

Suddenly the girl looked back and smiled at Arwen. She caught a glimpse of pointed teeth and her eyes went wide. Then she bolted to her dressing room and didn't come out for another three hours. However, the giggles and moans from her and Aragorn's room next door were very disconcerting.

To distract herself, she thought fiercely of various violent and painful ways of killing the girl, none of which seemed possible with her husband in this state. She would have to step carefully. It was time for a talk with Éowyn. Maybe she would have some ideas.

Arwen hoped feverishly that she would.

Meanwhile, several miles away in Ithilien, Faramir and Éowyn were enjoying a talk, sitting beside each other on a log and listening to the distant roar of the waterfall. Actually, there was not much talking involved in their conversation. Just a lot of kissing. Nevertheless, when Éowyn heard a rustling in the brush, she pried herself away from Faramir and moved forward cautiously, when suddenly she fell still, staring through a gap in the brush at the amazing being that had suddenly appeared.

He was handsome, more handsome than Faramir or Aragorn or any man she had ever seen in the tabloids. His eyes were a stunning blue, and his hair was jet black with a streak of white. He was tall and slender, and he had a brooding air about him, like an impending thunderstorm in summer, that was absolutely fascinating. He was wearing extremely tight pants and shirt that emphasized his musclefulness.

Faramir moved up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder, peering at the rather plain stranger with black and white hair, but found his hand rudely swatted off as Éowyn waded through the thorns, her eyes oddly vacant and empty. She looked…lovestruck. Éowyn looked lovestruck? He had never seen Éowyn looking at _anyone _like that, not even him! It was unnatural!

However, he had no time to complain, because Éowyn was now passionately kissing this blue-eyed stranger. He attempted to say something and felt a dagger whistle past his ear. After that he could do nothing but stare in disbelief until decency's sake forced him to turn around and walk disconsolately away, moaning to himself and muttering something along the lines of "chastity and fidelity my ass. That boy's not even handsome!"

When he found Arwen and she asked where Éowyn was, he shrugged and explained what had happened in a lackluster voice. Arwen listened through the end and started sobbing disconsolately.

Something had to be done, they decided once their tears could be controlled. Whatever had happened, Aragorn and Éoywn could not be tricked like that. They agreed to go and speak to the others' lifemate, and Arwen set off into the woods.

It was not hard to find them. They were making a lot of noise. Fortunately, when she came upon them, they were decently dressed again. But as soon as Arwen saw the boy, all thoughts of Aragorn or Éowyn or Faramir flew out of her head.

The next moment, she and Eoywn were on the ground, clawing each other's eyes out and shouting variations on, "He's mine!" or "Ouch!" alternately. Meanwhile, the boy looked on with a smile of satisfaction on his face. Everything was going as planned.


End file.
